


Deep Sexy Space

by Chipper_Daily



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drunk Sex, Kids Don't Look, M/M, Plookesians, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Dib's Out of his Depth Here, Poor Life Choices, Seriously this is just porn, Sex Work, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25584916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: Literally, everyone was getting laid EXCEPT for Dib, who was currently doing his level best to not puke over the side of the guardrail.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 201





	Deep Sexy Space

Literally, everyone was getting laid _except_ for Dib, who was currently doing his level best to not puke over the side of the guardrail. 

So really, this was just like reliving his university years.

Dib groaned and buried his head in his hands, the slight chill in Slaanek's stagnant air a welcome relief against his burning face. This was not, at _all,_ what he had thought being the Ambassador for Earth would be like. When he had initially accepted the position, he had expected daring space adventures, high-risk espionage, and perhaps, if he was lucky, some crazy awesome giant mech battles.

He had not anticipated the amount of _babysitting_ his hosts would require.

The Plookesians had seemed so regal and dignified during their historic First Contact with Earth. The intergalactic trade agreements they had extended to the more technologically primitive human race had been so comprehensive and even-handed, of _course,_ humanity's leaders had been tripping over themselves to accept. And of _course,_ when the offer to join the Plookesians to act as a representative for all humankind was extended to Dib, as the gifted progeny of one of humanity's greatest minds, he hadn't hesitated to accept. He'd dreamed of exploring the cosmos his whole life. 

How was he supposed to know their inspiring first contact speech was entirely and unabashedly plagiarised from the Meekrob, and their elegant trade agreement had been drafted by one of Plookesian's other trade partners, the Vortians? As it turned out, his hosts were actually widely considered the oddly charming frat boys of the Intergalactic Trade Union, and Dib, a socially awkward dweeb even among his own kind, had unwittingly signed onto their deep space party bus. 

So where he'd been expecting tense diplomatic negotiations of the potential alien-face-punching variety, he instead got… ditched on pleasure planets. 

Well, technically _he'd_ been the one to do the ditching but, considering everyone else in their small landing party was having a rip-roaring good time and Dib was, well, standing outside in the cold trying not to vomit over a guardrail, he figured maybe a pinch of self-pity was in order.

He turned away from the sprawling cityscape below, the gaudy neon lights of an endless red light district dancing beneath the magnificent glowing rings arching high above in the planet's almost perpetual night sky. Dib's tired sigh escaped as a puff of fog as he gazed longingly up at the sky. Losing track of time in a place like this was easy. How long had they even been here? He shot an annoyed look at the plush carpeted entrance to the shoddy brothel he'd escaped earlier. More importantly, how much longer was this going to take? 

He crossed his arms to ward off the chill and leaned heavily against the guardrail. He briefly considered trying to find the vort dog street vendor they'd passed earlier but quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't want to run the risk of missing his hosts when they finally came stumbling out. Even considering how tipsy he was, he was still sure he was probably the most capable of leading the small crew back to their hotel more-or-less in one piece. They'd probably be in the mood to grab a bite of something satisfyingly greasy to throw up later anyway. The corner of his lip twitched up into an absent, wry grin. They'd probably insist he choose where they were going.

He couldn't really stay angry at his hosts. Despite their very, _very,_ different tastes, the Plookesian's had been nothing but kind to him. The entire crew had gone out of their way to make their human guest feel welcome and accepted like they were the extended hyper-intelligent, uncomfortably large, space-slug-in-mech-suit family he never knew he had. Upon learning about his chronically single status as a member of a species that was supposed to be monogamous (at least in theory) his crewmates had promptly veered off course to Slaanek, the Planet of Delights, so that he could drink and fuck his woes away (at least in theory). They had even gone so far as to drag him along with them to a Plookesian brothel.

It had been as he'd nervously sipped his third drink in the dimly lit bar while his crewmate, Spoopty, helpfully informed him that Plookesian females produce copious amounts of mucus all over their squirming bodies in response to sexual stimulation, so he shouldn't, like, freak out if they wound up kind of stuck together with super thick _luv_ mucus 'cause it just meant she was _really_ into him, that Dib realized two things:

There was no gentle way to tell his gracious hosts that the thought of trying to have sex with a snot-coated slug the size of a pillow was revolting on every conceivable level. 

And this- the dive bars, the window dancers, the brothel directories where you could specify how many limbs you were looking for in a partner, all of this- just wasn't his… _thing._ It hadn't appealed to him back on Earth, and if anything, he felt even more out of his depth here. 

Honestly, he just wanted to leave. 

With that realization came a familiar sting- He didn't belong here. The lonely pang of isolation had been something of a staple in his life back on his home planet. It had been pretty naive to hope he'd have better luck finding his place off of it.

However, he would have to find somewhere else to feel sorry for himself; otherwise, he would very literally have to pay a slug with a face his hard-earned monies to _not_ fuck him. 

He slammed back the rest of his drink and abruptly stood to announce he was heading out for a smoke. Only to be met with a tableful of blank stares and the sudden crushing realization that literally no one but another human would have any remote idea what he was talking about. He didn't smoke to top it off, so it's not like he could even demonstrate for them. 

He gave his crewmates a couple of awkward finger guns and told them not to wait up for him, then bolted.

He wound up in a little hole-in-the-wall bar next door, where he could identify exactly nothing on the drink menu and tentatively ordered whatever the person to his left was having. Which, as it turned out, tasted like nail polish remover. However, it passed the two most important tests: It was definitely alcoholic, and he didn't go blind. He figured he wouldn't test his luck a second time and stick with nursing his paint thinner. 

He hadn't thought to question _how_ alcoholic his drink was until he hopped off his stool to find a washroom, and it hit him like a freight train. He decided as he clung to the edge of the bar for dear life while the room whirled around him, and his knees sorted out the whole holding-him-upright business, that maybe he was done with drinking for the night. 

At least he could say he nailed the 'drink' part of 'drink and fuck his woes away.' 50% was a pass. 

...Perhaps some fresh air would help him sober up a bit.

Thus he found himself leaning against a guardrail in the cold outside of the Plookesian brothel. Honestly, he enjoyed this more than the bar-hopping and skirt-chasing his hosts (frequently) indulged in, much to their baffled bemusement. Just being here, on an actual alien planet, surrounded by intelligent life forms of all shapes and sizes with unique cultures and languages and histories. To have the opportunity to lean back and just people-watch was a literal dream come true. 

"Hey."

It seemed painfully dull to the rest of his crew. Then again, the Plookesians had been travelling the cosmos for centuries. 

" _Hey!_ " 

Dib was the first human to ever make it past his planet's quaint inner solar system. 

"What are you supposed to _be_ anyway?"

Which meant that he got that question. A lot. 

Dib blinked out of his reverie and turned to look at whoever was addressing him. And found himself looking down. 

Large raspberry-red eyes squinted up at him. A pair of black, angular antennae perked inquisitively forward, and a vibrantly green little mouth pinched in a frown, as though annoyed with Dib for not being more easily identifiable. Dib squinted back as his muddled mind slowly put the pieces together. Only when his gaze was inevitably drawn to the faint glow from the pink panels on the smaller alien's PAK did things fall into place.

"You're Irken!" Dib perked up. He'd never had the opportunity to meet one before. The Plookesians avoided dealing with them as much as possible. They tended to leave any sort of negotiations with the obnoxious species up to the Vortians. 

Honestly, he'd expected them to look a lot more insectoid based on the descriptions he'd overheard of the militaristic race. He'd imagined at least an exoskeleton, maybe some mandibles? And- 

"You know, I thought you'd be taller?" 

"Bye, idiot hair-beast." The little Irken rigidly pushed himself away from the guardrail with a venomous look. 

Dib blinked hard as the green alien turned sharply on his heel and marched away.

"Wait-! Sorry, I'm a, uh," He corrected his posture and clicked on what he hoped was a disarming smile. "I'm a human." He was an ambassador, after all. Interacting with the locals is what he was supposed to be doing, drunk or not. 

"I thought the planet Hyoom was uninhabited." The little Irken planted a fist on his hip and looked back skeptically. Dib's smile dropped into a baffled look.

"I- what? No, I'm from Earth." 

"Wouldn't you be Earthen then?" 

"Well, the technical term would be Earth- _ling,_ but that could kind of apply to anything that came from Earth. My species is hu-"

"I don't care." The little Irken declared imperiously but joined Dib back at the guardrail nonetheless. He propped both elbows up on the rail and rested his cheek against a fist to lazily stare up at the human, the other hand left to hang idly over the sprawling city below. "What are you doing out here by yourself anyway, hue-man?" 

"Call me Dib." He turned with a wry grin to also rest his elbows against the railing, his hands folding loosely over the edge. It was a bit more of a natural position for him than his smaller Irken companion, who couldn't have been much more than four feet tall. 

"Why?" An antenna quirked as his companion squinted up at him.

"Because that's my name, you walnut." Dib actually laughed at his shorter companion's expression as both antennae shot up. 

"Zim is no walnut!" The little Irken snapped back, offended without even knowing what he was being called before he huffed peevishly and glared down at the dancing lights below. "Is all of your horrible species terrible at answering simple questions, Dib- _stink?"_

"Fine, fine, you're not a walnut." Dib rested his chin in his palm and watched the little Irken out of the corner of his eye, his smile softening to something more wistful. His unexpected companion wasn't anything like he'd imagined. He had assumed a widely renowned 'warrior race' would be, like, huge, heavily scarred, and monstrous. In comparison, Zim looked downright delicate. Hell, maybe it was the drinks talking, but with his big, bright, almond-shaped eyes and high sweeping cheekbones, small jet black antennae, and elegant thin neck, Dib would even go so far to call Zim kind of… pretty. (If he were honest, Dib thought Zim was actually _really_ pretty, but as long as he didn't consciously acknowledge it, he wouldn't become a tongue-tied mess and blow it like usual.) His gaze flicked up to the night sky before he could do something stupid, like realize he was ~~drunkenly~~ smoothly bantering with a cute alien. "And I think I'm a bit worse than the average human at answering questions, honestly. I came out here to see the sky." While that wasn't exactly his primary reason for hanging around outside, it sounded a lot better than admitting he was running from fucking a slug. He leaned back, way back, to drink in the milky glow of the sparkling rings high above them. "It's incredible!" 

"You're _stargazing?"_ Zim gave him an incredulous look. "You _tourist!"_ He threw his head back and cackled. 

"I haven't been to a lot of planets with rings." Dib trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. He really was acting like a gawky tourist, wasn't he? Zim hummed absently and gripped the guardrail to lean back on his heels and stare up into the sky.

"Eh. It's alright, I guess. I've seen better." He shrugged and turned to fix those huge, shining eyes back on Dib. "Though most people don't come to Slaanek for the skyline, you know." 

And reality came crashing down on Dib like a tonne of bricks. 

Slaanek. He was on Slaanek, _the Planet of Delights._

Zim was probably (almost definitely) a sex worker.

This wasn't some coincidental innocent meet-cute.

_Dib was being propositioned by an alien sex worker._

Dib blanched and took an abrupt step back, his hands twitching up with the automatic urge to frantically wave while he tried to smooth over and escape this colossal misunderstanding. 

He froze instead, his protest caught in the back of his throat. Fuck, Zim really did have magnificent eyes. The deep pinkish-red of ripe raspberries and large enough to catch the planetary rings' pale milky light in just the right way to make them look like they were lit from within. 

Dib swallowed thickly. He needed to end this. His treacherous eyes trailed over enticing curves, across narrow shoulders and down the curve of a supple spine hidden beneath his magenta tunic, slipped over his slender waist and wide hips to linger on shapely thighs. Dib's lips suddenly felt parched as a soft warmth flickered somewhere below his navel.

He… shouldn't. 

He shouldn't, but he _could._

Dib had been on his best behaviour since he'd left Earth, who could fault him for indulging, just this once? Certainly not the Plookesians, that's why they came here, right? Even if word somehow made its way back to Earth, what was the worst that would happen? His dad would be disappointed, sure, but he would still love him. Gaz might be exasperated enough to punch him the next time she saw him, but he doubted she would be surprised. If his relationship with his sister could survive the uncomfortable incident in Hi Skool when she'd stumbled across his secret folder dedicated to alien encounters of a more… intimate nature, he figured it would survive this too.

No. _No._ The fact Dib was even _considering_ picking up an alien sex worker was enough proof that he wasn't in his right state of mind. He was going to send Zim on his way, and then he would go back to his room to sleep this off. His Plookesian crewmates had managed to stumble their way back to their hotel before Dib had boarded with them, they could do it again tonight. He thrust his hands into his pockets and squared his shoulders to portray confidence he certainly didn't feel.

"I could use some company," His eyes locked on the pretty pink part in the cute bow of Zim's ivy lips. He didn't dare meet the little Irken's gaze for fear of losing his nerve, even as the rational voice in the back of his mind began screaming. "How much?"

Both Zim's antennae bolted forward as his eyes popped wide in- surprise? Dib almost began back-peddling before a shrewd look replaced the initial shock and Zim eyed him up and down slowly, thoughtfully. Dib felt weirdly exposed even beneath his signature coat, and, for a split second, he worried that he'd completely misread the situation, and Zim would just laugh at him. 

"700 credits." Zim crossed his arms and shot him a haughty look. "Up front."

Both of Dib's eyebrows shot up. That seemed like… a lot. Then again, Dib certainly wasn't an expert on the matter, and it's not like he didn't have the monies to spend. The Intergalactic Trade Union paid him quite handsomely for his work. Zim seemed to notice his hesitation and flattened his antennae in irritation, one little black boot tapping impatiently against the pavement. 

"You're not going to find another Irken, you know." He turned his (lack of) nose up, his tone strangely defensive. Never before had a plush little pout looked so appealing. Fuck. Dib was already reaching for his wallet. 

Zim quickly rifled through the bills before a mechanical appendage that uncomfortably resembled a spider leg darted out of his PAK to spear the stack and retracted. The Irken turned to him with a half-lidded, smug look. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran up Dib's spine as Zim ghosted his fingertips down the thick fabric of his sleeve to squeeze his palm in two much smaller hands. He'd almost call the action tender, if not for the hint of six sharp little claws digging threateningly into his skin. Which really shouldn't have been as enticing as it was. Zim's pert little lips melted into a smile that would have been coy on anyone else, but only managed to look predatory on the Irken as Dib's heart hammered in his chest. 

"Lead the way, human."

\---

The blinds lifted with a soft whir, velvety silver light flooding the opulent hotel room. The view was incredible; the planetary rings sparkled in their magnificent arch while the city's hustle and bustle churned far below. Frankly, Dib would have been just as happy with one of the smaller rooms closer to the ground, but his crewmates wanted them all to be on the same floor. It also turned out the Plookesian's had something of a 'frequent-flyer' discount with this particular hotel. At the time Dib had tried his level best not to roll his eyes, but now he silently thanked his past self for not putting up too much of a fight as he leaned against the door and watched his guest (was that the right word?) survey his surroundings with wide eyes. 

"Huh." The little Irken planted his fists on his hips. "Fancy."

Dib really shouldn't have felt weirdly flattered by the note of approval in the smaller alien's tone. (He did though.)

The rational voice in the back of his mind swept in to ruin the moment with a sudden, uncomfortable thought that Zim had probably seen inside of _lots_ of hotel rooms. More than Dib anyway. What was he even doing?

He had felt triumphant when Zim had first taken him by the hand and led him through the crowds to a quieter street where they'd have a better chance of getting a cab. He was doing this. He had never done anything like it before, but he was actually _doing this,_ and it was unbelievable and exhilarating and _exciting._

That feeling had changed as soon as the small ship's door shut behind him, and the sharp little 'click' of the lock fired through his nerves like a bullet. He looked up to see Zim scooted as far across the cab from him as he could get, and it all suddenly became very, very, real. He was doing this. He had never done anything like it before, but he was actually _doing this,_ and it was uncomfortable and embarrassing and _terrifying._

While Dib certainly wasn't a blushing virgin, he didn't exactly have a lot of experience under his belt either. A soft-spoken Hi Skool girlfriend who'd coaxed him to ditch their graduation dance for an awkward tumble in the back of the car his dad lent him for the night. (That relationship fizzled out before the summer was over.) A clumsy fumble with his university roommate's best friend's sister's boyfriend's brother in the downstairs bathroom of a house party Dib wasn't invited to. (Who never texted him back.) Neither experience had left him feeling exactly confident. In comparison, Zim was (very) pretty, he probably (almost definitely) had a fair number of, er, patrons. More than two, at the very least. 

Mighty fuck, this was so far out of his depth, what was Dib even _doing?_

So far, not nearly as much as he wished he was.

But after a stifling cab ride spent with his hands clasped tightly in his lap and knees pinched rigidly together, silently drowning in his stress, while Zim had stared pointedly out the opposite window and resolutely ignored him, it had never been more painfully apparent that Dib had no idea how to initiate the process. At least Zim seemed kind of impressed with the room? That was a good start, right?

Perhaps it was high time to turn on the ol' Dib charm. 

"So, uh-" His voice broke as Zim shot him a tense look. He swallowed down the lump in his throat before trying again. "You, uh… wanna order something to eat?" Smooth. Hire a sex worker to eat take out with. Next, he could tell Zim all about the bigfoot conspiracy theory that left him ostracised by his peers back in third grade. No wonder his Hi Skool classmates had voted him 'most likely to die alone.' Well, time to do what he did best and keep digging. "The kitchen at this place is actually pretty good?" 

Instead of immediately offering him a refund and leaving or just _dying_ from second-hand embarrassment, Zim's entire demeanour brightened.

So that's how Dib found himself perched on the edge of his bed, the tinny voice of the poor staff member taking his order buzzing in one ear while fending Zim off with his elbow as the little Irken happily prattled off an absurd list that Dib wasn't entirely sure were even _words,_ let alone dishes the downstairs kitchen could make. 

"We'll have all that sent up as soon as it's ready, sir." The staff member sounded so, so tired. Dib had a sneaking suspicion that it didn't matter how much she was getting paid. It was still probably not enough considering what she put up with. "How would you like to pay this evening?" 

"Uh?" Dib eyed his smaller guest. Zim met his gaze with wide, expectant eyes, his little talons hooked into the fabric bunched around Dib's elbow. "Just put it on my tab." Dib didn't catch whatever the staff member said after that, if anything. His whole attention was absorbed in the way Zim's delicate face split into a broad smile, his magenta eyes lighting up with mischievous delight. Something warm fluttered deep in Dib's chest, his lips curled up into a devious grin as he carelessly flicked his communicator in his bedside table's general direction. "You are _very_ expensive, you know." 

"Zim is worth-" Zim's smug reply was rudely interrupted by Dib hooking an arm around his waist to flop back onto the huge bed, dragging the Irken with him. 

Zim was instantly all edges again. His claws untangled from Dib's sleeve like it had burned him as he scooched away from the human. Dib hummed and folded his newly freed arm under his head as he rolled onto his side to better observe his guest. Zim was just great to look at, all petite, alien, and enticing, curled up on Dib's bed. He blinked at the odd sensation of forming two very different fantasies in response to the same thought: Of Zim _under_ his covers. Either achingly soft, sleepily bundled up in plush warmth, looking sweet and small tucked into Dib's enormous bed, _or-_

Dib's gaze flicked away from where it had drifted to linger longingly on the swell of Zim's hip to rest on his thin wrist and small hand curled into the blanket. He swallowed down a half-aborted thought pondering if the little Irken's skin would feel as warm beneath him as Dib's face currently did.

Fuck, he was drunk. 

"Can I see your hand?" He reached out halfway, not wanting to invade Zim's space when he seemed so on edge. The smaller alien's fingertips twitched against the blankets. 

"Why?" Zim's tone was sharp, wary, his antenna reflexively flattened.

"So I can see it?" Dib snorted in return with a quirked eyebrow. He held up his square palm and five blunt fingers for comparison. "It's pretty different from mine."

Zim eyed both the human and his offered hand suspiciously before releasing an immensely put-upon sigh and offering up his gloved hand with an exaggerated eye roll. The sass did nothing to damper Dib's excitement as he cupped the much smaller hand in his palm. 

He shifted to rest on his elbow and awkwardly readjusted his glasses to examine the strange hand, a literal lifetime of fascination bubbling in his chest. Zim's wrist seemed so delicate, and Dib barely managed to catch himself before he asked Zim about the composition of his bones. Even he knew that wasn't precisely pillow talk. The thin wrist led to a comparatively small triangular palm where Zim's thumb's position and angle were similar to a human. However, unlike a human, all three of his fingers were longer than his palm and ended in sharp little points. Did Zim have claws, or were the tips part of the glove's design? 

"Is it okay if I take this off?" He didn't know why his voice was so low, he was asking to remove a glove, not Zim's- (no don't stare at his thighs!!) Dib resolutely searched the petite Irken's large eyes. Zim's lips pressed into a thin, disapproving, line and Dib was halfway through backing down before Zim cut him off with a stiff nod. 

The thick, rubber-like glove slipped away more easily than Dib had anticipated. He spared a passing thought to wonder what the material was before everything inside him _stilled._ His fingertips tentatively grazed across warm alien skin. Mighty fuck, he hadn't expected Zim would feel so _soft._ He turned the delicate green hand over to smooth his thumb over Zim's palm and released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Sure enough, each little finger was tipped with an opaque claw a shade paler than his skin, curved like a bird's talon and wickedly sharp. Gloves on for sex, then. He felt strangely giddy as he leaned in to investigate further.

"You don't have fingerprints." Dib belatedly realized that he was grinning like an idiot. He couldn't help it, though; this was already one of the best experiences of his life. The only other time he'd been this close to an extraterrestrial was the one memorable night when he had to lift his Plookesian commander, Mooshy, out of a puddle of vomit. Needless to say, it wasn't nearly as magical a moment. 

"My hands are perfect!" The little Irken snatched his arm back and cradled it against his chest with a scowl. "Zim needs no primitive Earth- _brints."_

" _Prints._ And they're not that common outside of humans back on Earth either. See?" He held up his hand. Zim made a noble effort to resist his curiosity. However, self-restraint wasn't a particularly strong trait in most Irkens and even compared to his own kind Zim was sorely lacking. It wasn't long before he was unforgivingly twisting Dib's hand in the pale light flooding through the window to get a better view of the shallow ridges imprinted in the human's skin. "Zim, my wrist doesn't- Ah! _Ah!_ Geez, _gentle!"_

"You mean the swirlies?" Zim squinted intently at the human's fingers before his gaze flicked up to meet Dib's. "What are they?"

"Neat, huh? They form from pressure on the developing fingers in the womb, so every person's prints are unique." Well, in Dib's case, pressure on his developing fingers in the test tube. At least he had one thing not biologically identical to his dad. He wasn't going to go into the whole genetically-engineered-clone-baby thing though, Zim would probably think that was pretty weird. Dib tugged his hand free to lightly trace his fingertips over the back of Zim's exposed hand. "They help give humans a better sense of texture." 

Dib was once again struck by how pretty Zim looked in the velvet silver light of Slaanek's rings, his vibrant eyes wide and attentive. Something warm, impulsive, and stupid fluttered deep in Dib's chest. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into the heel of Zim's little palm before he realized what he was doing.

Zim went very, very still. Dib chanced a glance up at the little Irken's face to find Zim gaping at him like a fish, a delicate lavender flush blossoming high on his cheeks. If circumstances had been different, Dib would have seriously wondered if Zim had ever done this before. He promptly dismissed that thought in favour of the much more likely issue: Dib had done something wrong. He didn't know anything about what sort of special Irken, or any other alien, (or even human, for that matter) code-of-conduct to follow in this situation, so he had probably inadvertently overstepped his boundaries or something.

"Are you okay?" He whispered as he intently searched Zim's face for any sign that he wasn't. The little Irken swallowed and nodded slightly. "Is this okay?" His tone dipped lower as he smoothed his thumb over the soft skin of Zim's wrist. His hand felt so warm in Dibs. A pregnant silence fell between them for one heartbeat. Two. Then it was Zim holding his breath as he offered his palm up to the human. 

Dib didn't break eye contact as he brought the offered hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on the little Irken's thin wrist. He could feel Zim's subtle shiver against his skin, and victory flickered like a candle flame beneath his ribs as the smaller alien shifted closer. He wondered if Zim's pert ivy lips were as soft as his hands, and that rational voice in the back of his head whispered with both disbelief and airy delight that he would know before the night was over. He would know how soft _all_ of Zim was before the night was over.

(He had never done anything like this before but, by god, he was _doing it,_ which was uncomfortable, unbelievable, embarrassing, exhilarating, terrifying and, simmering under it all, _exciting._ )

Then, with an entirely unsexy rap at the door, Dib's order arrived from the kitchen and completely ruined the mood. 

Both men froze like they'd been caught in the middle of some obscene act, and Dib became painfully aware that the prolonged kiss probably looked more silly than suave and seductive. 

"Did you specify that you wanted the mooshminky deep-fried?" Zim whispered as he imploringly searched Dib's eyes in the low light, not unlike a lover would whilst breathlessly waiting to hear if their feelings were returned. 

Dib, who was rudely interrupted from internally panicking that he'd kept his mouth on Zim too long and it was probably weird, detached from the little Irken's wrist to give him a dumbfounded look. "What?" 

"If it's steamed, I'm going to flush it down the toilet." Zim continued with complete sombre sincerity.

_"What?"_

Another sharp knock, this one somehow more impatient than the last, and Zim was gone from Dib's arms. By the time he propped himself up onto his elbows to see what was unfolding at the door, Zim was already rudely shutting it in the face of the unlucky staff member who was just trying to deliver their order. Dib only managed a split-second of eye contact with the panicked alien waiter before the door slammed shut, and Zim was twirling to grin up at Dib with unmasked delight, a platter of ~~horror~~ food balanced triumphantly in his little hands. 

Dib was a pretty adventurous person, his natural curiosity pushing him to try all sorts of new things. This somewhat reckless trait had gotten him into trouble quite a few times, honestly. Like now, as it dawned on him that perhaps letting a literal alien belonging to a species he'd never interacted with before order for him had been a spectacularly bad idea. Irkens could consider arsenic-seasoned keratin a delicacy for all he knew.

Zim either didn't notice or didn't care about Dib's hesitance as he hopped up to sit on the edge of the bed with the platter perched on his lap. He didn't bother waiting for Dib before digging in either. Weirdly, it was that more than anything that finally pushed Dib to haul himself up with an annoyed groan to join Zim at the edge of the bed. 

He eyed the platter dubiously as the drinks from earlier in the evening churned threateningly in his otherwise empty stomach. Two things jumped out about the whole assortment:

There was an uncomfortable amount of jarringly unnatural greens.

More importantly, some things were definitely still _alive._ Which meant they were 100% less dead than Dib typically preferred his meals.

He settled on the relative safety of nibbling a mini vort dog. It was the only thing he could identify that he knew wouldn't make him violently ill. The texture reminded him of slightly firmer and weirdly juicy egg tofu, and the taste was caught somewhere between spicy beef jerky and flat off-brand cola. While the flavour was bizarre, it wasn't outright awful, and Dib had grown kind of fond of it throughout his travels. Which was a blessing considering how popular they seemed to be. He almost always had a safe fall back whenever his crew wanted to eat out.

His gaze drifted over to Zim, who was happily munching on a horrifyingly green burrito thing. He found himself wondering what his favourite food was, and how common it was to find during his interstellar travels. How had he wound up on Slaanek, and why? Dib wanted-

His attention flicked to the half-eaten vort dog in his hand as his chest tightened. 

He wanted to know everything about Zim.

Fuck. He really was drunk. 

"So," Dib paused and forced himself to pop the rest of the mini vort dog into his mouth. "How long have you been on Slaanek?" He promptly almost choked as Zim flicked a surprisingly dexterous worm-like tongue across his gloved fingertips after polishing off his burrito. If the little Irken noticed he didn't mention it.

"Hmm, about half a rotation?" He shrugged mildly, his tone bored as he plucked a squirming tentacle out of a box and popped it into his mouth. "Too long. This wretched place is the _worst."_

Guilt dropped into the pit of Dib's stomach like a stone. It made sense. It would be pretty unrealistic to think every sex worker in a planet-wide red light district legitimately loved their job. Still, he couldn't meet Zim's eyes, and his gaze fell to the platter with the sinking realization that he wasn't hungry. He didn't want… he didn't want Zim to feel like Dib was forcing him into sex. He wouldn't have asked in the first place if he'd known the little Irken wasn't interested. 

"Zim, you know, we don't have to do this if you're not…" Dib did his best not to squirm as he trailed off under Zim's blank stare, one antenna quirked inquisitively. It took an awkward moment for the smaller alien to realize what he was referring to, and, much to his embarrassment, Zim barked out a short, derisive laugh. 

"Don't worry, human, Zim will take care of you." He purred as he kicked his little heels against Dib's bed, too short to rest his feet on the floor like his companion, and popped another tentacle into his mouth. "That's the _easy_ part of being stuck on this ball of filth, Dib-thing."

"Then why have you been so tense this whole time?"

"Because the Dib has been lying." The little Irken quickly licked his finger clean before shooting him a sidelong glance. "There's no information about 'humans' or 'Urth' in my memory banks or PAK database. So I don't know _what_ you are, but it can't be good if you're trying to lie about it."

"Wha-? But I'm-!?" Dib sputtered, caught completely off guard. "I _am_ a human! We just, we haven't really…" He didn't know why, but hot shame flushed beneath his ribs. Normally, he was proud to be the first of his species to make it out this far. However, now he felt strangely embarrassed to admit to how far behind his kind was compared to so many other beings of similar intelligence. He was worried the little Irken would laugh at him. Think less of him. _Why_ he was so worried about being judged by an alien sex worker was something to be sorted out once he was sober. "It's not in your… 'pack'... because we're pretty isolated, there aren't many planets able to support complex life near us, so we didn't bother to look further. We're just starting to, uh, test the waters with the Intergalactic Trade Union. I've been travelling around with a Plookesian crew to see what sort of market there is for Earth stuff." He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. "They, um, we were _supposed_ to attend a trade show on Boodie Nen, but they decided to stop here instead."

"Ugh. Of course they did. _Plookesians."_ Zim rolled his eyes. "No wonder you smell like a pickled Sloorg." 

What was a pickled Sloorg? _What was a pickled Sloorg??_ Was that a good thing? It didn't sound like a good thing. Dib stamped down on the almost hysterical urge to sniff his armpit. 

"Seriously, Zim, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." Dib shifted focus instead.

"You're not impressing anyone, you know." Zim shot him an annoyed look and crossed his arms. "Mr. Hero of Earth sweeping in to save all the sad Slaneekian whores. _Please._ If I'd known this was a role-play thing, I would have charged you more."

"I'm trying to help you, you know, be calm!" Dib snapped back before he could catch himself. Then again, he felt he didn't deserve the dig for just trying to be considerate. "I don't know what it's like here, but like, _actual consent_ is pretty important back where I'm from."

"Zim is calm!" The little Irken threw his hands in the air. "I have never been calmer! You're the one that's making things all messed up and confusing, Dib- _stink!"_

"Do you normally insult your customers, or am I just special?"

"My-?" Zim snapped his mouth shut before he could finish and quickly turned away to glare at the platter in his lap. "You're not special." He grumbled petulantly. 

Dib sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. Only he could find a way to mess this up even when he was literally paying for it.

"Look, I'm sorry if that gets on your nerves or whatever, I just…" Dib's gaze fell to the platter as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. "I guess I was hoping you'd be as excited to try this as I am?" He silently cursed the warmth flushing his face and chanced a glance up at the little Irken. "I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do this."

Before Dib could comprehend what was happening, Zim had plucked the platter off his lap and dropped it on the tiled floor with an explosive clatter. 

"What the hell, Zim-?!" He managed to sputter as his attention snapped to the mess on the ground. Anything he intended to say after that was wiped clean from his mind as he suddenly found himself with a lapful of Irken. He had a half-second of internal panic about where he should be putting his hands before a small hand wrapped just a hair too tight around his neck and roughly forced his chin up to meet the little alien's glare. Vibrant magenta eyes narrowed dangerously as Zim's lips pressed tight into a deeply unimpressed line. 

"I am a _soldier,_ Earth-stink. A member of the Irken _Elite."_ He pressed closer, their foreheads almost touching. "A simple, smelly creature like _you_ could not _FORCE_ Zim to do _ANYTHING,_ even if you DID want to, understood?" Clearly, he wasn't looking for a response, as he chose to punctuate the end of his statement with a clumsy peck on Dib's mouth. Zim quickly pulled away to make sure the human could see how mad he still was, and how he was totally in control of the whole situation. His large eyes still narrowed, his antenna pressed flat and green lips turned in a stern pout, the imposing image was only a little bit spoiled by the soft flush of delicate lavender along his cheekbones. 

Dib's eyes popped wide in surprise. This whole thing was giving him emotional whiplash. He carefully lowered his hands from where they were frozen awkwardly hovering at shoulder height to gently rest on the hips that were currently straddling his lap. Zim felt deliciously warm beneath the starched uniform, and the little Irken didn't bite his face off for being too forward, which was a bonus. It would be nice if Zim would let him breathe properly though, he was starting to feel a bit light-headed.

Zim's glare softened as he leaned forward to gently press his forehead to Dib's, and the human could feel his antenna rustle his hair as the little Irken's gaze seemed to become a bit unfocused. Dib let his own eyes flutter shut as he leaned up, those plush green lips were easy enough to catch to place one gentle peck. Two. Three. 

Maybe the choking wasn't _so_ bad. His head was spinning, and he felt a bit like he was floating. The only points of contact keeping him grounded were the shift of fabric over warm skin beneath his hands, and one alien hand fisted in the front of his shirt over his heart, with the other wrapped firmly around his throat, and the press of eager lips against his own, again and again, until he couldn't possibly keep count of them all. His hands ran up a narrow waist over foreign ribs, his fingertips brushing against the cold metal of Zim's PAK, and suddenly that soft, pliant mouth was gone along with the pressure around his neck.

Zim half-turned to bat Dib's hands away from his PAK with a breathless _"don't,"_ then he curled his hands in the collar of Dib's shirt and roughly jerked Dib forward to meet him as he leaned into the human once more. Dib didn't have to be told twice, one hand sinking to press against the small of the little Irken's back and the other reaching up to cup his neck and guide him to tilt his head so that Dib could deepen their kisses. Dib had no way of knowing if 'kissing' was even a _thing_ off Earth, but if nothing else, Zim was a fast and enthusiastic learner. He caught himself moaning softly into the alien's mouth and, while he was sure he'd be humiliated about it once he had sobered up, the small shiver that ran up the Irken's spine in response was well worth the embarrassment. He flicked his tongue playfully against the crease of Zim's oddly sweet mouth and felt him stiffen. Dib pulled back and somehow swallowed down the urge to laugh. Zim looked like Dib had just slapped him, eyes wide, antenna perked forward, and mouth slack with surprise. 

Zim's lips were flushed and swollen, and Dib didn't have to wonder if his were the same if the way Zim's gaze fell to his mouth was any indication. He tilted his head, so their foreheads rested gently together, breathing each other's air. When had his breathing gotten so heavy? (More importantly, when had Zim's?) He smoothed his thumb along the little Irken's jaw as he leaned in to catch those swollen lips in a slow and deep kiss. Zim melted into him, and there was something wonderfully intuitive about the way the little Irken moved against him, _with_ him, that made it feel like they'd been perfecting this rhythm for a lifetime, not just one night. He tasted… vaguely sweet, it reminded Dib of something he couldn't quite put his finger on as he gently lapped the soft part of Zim's lips when they broke for air. Zim's little claws hooked in the front of his shirt as he panted against him, their mouths so close their lips touched with each heavy breath. Dib flicked his tongue across Zim's bottom lip and followed it with a deep, sucking kiss, the hint of blunt teeth pressing against his swollen lip eliciting a soft _"Ah,"_ from the little Irken and Dib very nearly moaned into his mouth again. 

Their bodies were pressed flush; still, Dib tried to pull him closer, he wanted more, he wanted the little Irken like he'd never wanted anything before. Electricity fired through his veins at the tentative touch of the tip of Zim's strange tongue against his. Zim's tongue was _very_ different than his. Round, thin, ridged with thicker skin and, as Dib promptly discovered, _long._ Long enough to wrap entirely around his and still have enough left over to almost choke him.

As much as he desperately wished he could say otherwise, Dib promptly gagged and ripped away from the heated kiss to cough as his stomach lurched threateningly. For one heart-stopping moment, Dib was genuinely afraid he would wind up throwing up in Zim's lap. Then he would have literally no other choice but to swallow his own tongue and _die._ He thankfully managed to swallow down the urge before meeting Zim's wide-eyed gaze. 

"That's, uh, that's a bit much to take-" Dib's eyes flicked to the Irken's lap. "- Without warning." He quickly amended before meeting Zim's gaze once more. His tongue flicked over his lip, and he watched Zim's gaze fall to his mouth.

"Shut up." Zim growled breathlessly, his almond-shaped eyes half shut as clawed hands tangled in Dib's hair and dragged the human back into another crushing kiss. Dib didn't fight the rough handling. If he were honest, he would have to admit he was kind of into it. His clumsy hands slid down over alien ribs, a slender waist, and over the swell of Zim's hips to indulgently squeeze the warm thighs straddling his lap. Zim jerked away from their kiss to shoot a bewildered look down at the human's hands. Dib huffed a breathless chuckle and leaned in to trace Zim's jawline with his lips. Zim tilted his head obediently with a soft sigh to offer his neck to the human's eager mouth, sharp little claws digging threateningly into Dib's scalp. 

Dib smoothed his hands back up Zim's toned thighs to slip teasingly under the Irken's tunic hem. His eyes snapped wide open as electricity jolted up his spine when his fingertips met bare skin hidden just above the hem of Zim's neat little uniform. Dib was pretty sure his soul left his body with the abrupt realization that the tiny Irken terror was wearing _stockings,_ not leggings. 

( _Bless_ the Plookesians for deciding to make this detour, Dib would never question their wisdom ever again.)

"What are you doing to me?" Zim's voice was small and breathless in a way that made Dib bite his lip as the human smoothed his large hands over the swell of Zim's pert little bottom. Dib slipped his hands out from under Zim's tunic to lightly tug the magenta fabric's hem.

"Can this come off?" He murmured against Zim's jaw before sealing the husky words with another kiss.

"Why?" Zim breathed as his little talons flexed against Dib's scalp.

"So I can see you?" Dib huffed affectionately in return, his fingers idly trailing down the petite Irken's thighs. "You don't have to if you don't-" He was promptly cut off by a low groan.

"You are SO _annoying,_ Dib-stink." Zim grunted and slipped off his human's lap, leaving Dib to blink in open bewilderment, his hands left hanging mournfully in the air where Zim's warm thighs had been. 

Zim's polished little black boots clicked sharply against the tile as he took one step back, then two, and ran his small, three-fingered hands under his antennas and over the back of his head with a deep, centring breath. Even in the pale milky light, Dib could tell how flushed the petite Irken was, how plush his kiss-swollen lips were, and every fibre of Dib's being wanted Zim back in his arms. Zim's throat worked as he swallowed, and hooded raspberry red eyes finally flicked back up to meet honey brown, both dark with desire, before Zim abruptly spun around. His PAK glowed faintly in the dim room as Zim reached up and dragged his fingertip down from the back of his neck to the alien device's top panel, the pink fabric of his uniform peeling open to reveal tantalizing ivy skin as though he were drawing open a zipper. 

Dib's fists clenched in the bedspread, enraptured with the way Zim's uniform fell open as the split Zim had made in the neck of his tunic met the hole in the back to accommodate his PAK, gaping to reveal smooth, unblemished green skin. It was the hottest thing Dib had ever seen in his _life,_ and he was still trying to wrap his mind around that this was happening at _all,_ let alone where it was leading. Zim shimmied out of his little tunic, revealing one deliciously bare narrow green shoulder at a time. The stark pink slipped down over short alien ribs and a long, slim torso to catch on his hips before being roughly tugged down to pool on the floor around Zim's polished black boots. Dib didn't even want to risk _breathing_ in case this was a dream, and he accidentally woke himself up. The Irken crouched down to snatch his gloves up off the floor and awkwardly shoved them on before standing again and half turning to meet Dib's eager gaze with a pout, his arms pinched tight over his torso, as though he were embarrassed. Dib had no idea what the Irken could _possibly_ be embarrassed about- Zim was gorgeous in just his gloves, stockings, and plain black panties in the pale silver light. Dib, for the first time in his entire life, was genuinely struck speechless. 

"The Hero of Earth has to remove his uniform too," Zim grumbled as his lavender blush deepened, and he dipped his head as though he could hide it. "So it's fair." 

" _Oh,_ " Dib blinked hard as Zim's voice snapped him out of staring. Still, he was a bit too out of it to catch the mild insult. "Uh, okay, yeah yeah- that makes sense." He licked his dry lips and fumbled with his fly. Dib promptly realized he'd gone about disrobing in the entirely wrong order when his jeans wound up tangled with his boots. He struggled with the laces until he could kick the mess off completely, only to straighten up and realize he probably should have taken off his coat first. 

Finally, after a notably less graceful display than Zim, Dib was down to just his boxers (and one sock that had stubbornly stayed on his foot when he kicked free from his boots/pants). When he glanced back up, he discovered Zim's soft blush had shifted approximately three shades darker, his large magenta eyes wide as they very obviously drank in Dib's exposed skin, one small gloved hand resting lightly over his mouth. The human didn't even try to fight the smug grin as that candle flame flickered deep in his chest again- Zim _wanted_ him. Holy fuck. Zim's eyes didn't flick back up to meet Dib's until the human shuffled back onto the bed, leaning on one arm as he playfully motioned the petite Irken to come closer with the other. Zim's thin neck worked as he swallowed, but obediently climbed back onto Dib's lap. 

Dib leaned back into the smaller Irken's warmth and kissed him again with a low purr that made Zim shiver in his arms. God, Zim's skin was so _soft,_ and the little Irken subtly squirmed beneath Dib's hands as he eagerly pressed up against Dib's lips. Zim's small gloved hands tentatively slipped from bracing on Dib's broad shoulders to trace down his arms and back up again to stroke up his neck and through the short hairs at the base of his head and trailed down over Dib's collarbones and chest. Zim broke away from Dib's mouth to trail his wide-eyed gaze down the expanse of Dib's torso to the pronounced bulge in the front of his boxers. 

Sudden fondness swelled beneath Dib's ribs in response to Zim's silent uncertainty, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss against Zim's forehead as he reached up to guide Zim's hands to his nipples. 

"It feels good for humans if you touch here." Dib murmured into the skin near the base of one of Zim's antennas as the little Irken experimentally traced his fingertip around the dark areola. Dib's hands slid up Zim's tiny waist to gently cup his ribs and rubbed his thumbs over the smooth skin where Zim's nipples would be if he were human. Dib hummed his approval as Zim caught on and mimed the motion on Dib's body, his magenta eyes wide as he watched his hands with rapt attention. His gaze only snapped back up to Dib's face when the human groaned low in his throat as his hands trailed reverently back down Zim's curves and over the swell of his ass to squeeze his thighs. Zim's breath caught in his throat as he drank in Dib's face, and Dib's cock twitched in anticipation. 

"Where do I touch you to make you feel good, Zim?" Dib's voice was low, husky, as he squeezed Zim's thighs and leaned close until their foreheads were touching. Zim stilled in his arms, his antenna twitching up as he nervously glanced away.

"Zim was paid to make the Dib feel good." Zim lamely muttered as his brow furrowed and his lips curled up to bare his interlocking teeth in an awkward grimace of a smile. Dib tilted his head and pressed their lips together in a slow, deep kiss, catching the smaller Irken's lower lip to give it a teasing suck before leaning back to huff against Zim's plush mouth.

"But, I want to make _you_ feel good, space-boy." Dib purred, their lips brushing, and Zim shivered in his arms again, his breath hitching as his antennas rustled against Dib's hair.

"Why do you smell so good?" Zim's voice was small, dreamy as Dib crushed their mouths together again. Dib could feel his antennas hook around his cowlick, which was a little weird, but at the same time, it was kind of cute. "So good-" Zim gasped against him when they finally broke for air. "What are you doing to me?" 

"Can I touch you here?" Dib panted against Zim's plush mouth as his hands shifted to pet his thumbs along the petite Irken's inner thighs, tracing along the hem of his cute little black panties. His answer was a shaky exhale against his mouth as Zim rolled his hips up against Dib's hands. Dib bit his lip as he shifted one hand to press his fingers against the smooth black fabric where he figured a clit would be if Zim were human and firmly stroked down. Dib was silently relieved his assumption about Zim's genitals' location wasn't totally off (thank goodness for bipedal beings having more-or-less the same basic setup, apparently even across galaxies), but that was where the resemblance to a human ended. The Irken's panties were _wet_ beneath Dib's clumsy fingers ( _holy shit_ ), and his eyes widened as raw desire lanced through his being. His fingertips traced over a body shaped _very_ differently than anything he'd encountered before beneath the slick fabric. Zim's antennas twitched where they were still firmly wrapped around his cowlick and Zim… clicked? 

And Dib found his lap empty again. 

The human blinked his confusion as Zim jolted off his lap, covered his flushed face with his little hands, and paced a quick, tight circle in front of Dib. 

"Uh," Concern shifted through the haze of arousal as Dib hesitantly lowered his still hovering hands to his thighs. "Are you sure you're okay there, Zim?" 

"I'm _fine!_ " Zim's eyes were squeezed shut, his face pinched, and he reached up to tug his antenna as he sucked in a tight breath through his clenched teeth. He held it for a beat before those magenta eyes cracked back open to evaluate the human still awkwardly perched on the edge of the bed. He swallowed thickly, his hands shifting from tugging his antennas to trail down the back of his head to hook together behind his thin neck, his sharp gaze melting to something almost embarrassed before he softly repeated, "I'm fine. I just-" His eyes slid away as he squirmed under Dib's gaze. "I don't… know... "His lips flinched back into an uncomfortable grin as he subtly pinched his thighs together. Dib's fingertips tingled faintly, still wet from the brief contact, and Dib licked his dry lips as his gaze dropped to his lap.

"It's okay, Zim, I get it," Dib huffed, and Zim's gaze snapped back in time to watch the human awkwardly rub the back of his neck. "You've never, uh, done this sort of thing with a human before. You don't have to be embarrassed. Honestly, I'd be a lot more shocked if you _had,_ you know?" 

"Yeah," Zim's voice dipped as his hands fell to fidget in front of his narrow ribs nervously. "With a human." The tip of his absurdly long tongue flicked along his kiss-swollen lip as he eyed up Dib's lean body, and his antennas quivered slightly in the silver light. "The Dib should, uh, demonstrate. How this... Works." Zim trailed off as those large eyes finally met Dibs before ending with a stilted. "With a human." 

"Uh…" Dib swallowed thickly as heat flushed in his cheeks. Still, he set his jaw and nodded. "Yeah, okay." Technically speaking, he would have to ditch his boxers at _some_ point, it may as well be now. He lifted his hips and shimmied out of the soft cotton briefs, his hard cock springing upright upon being released from the restricting fabric to brush against the underside of his navel. Dib leaned back on the bedspread and shyly nodded up at Zim, who was flushed up to the base of his upright antenna at this point, wide magenta eyes locked between the human's thighs. "Your turn, space-boy," His voice cracked awkwardly, and he took a moment to clear his throat before he continued in a more steady tone. "So it's fair."

Zim pinched his lips but nodded anyway, and a hesitant half-moment later, he hooked his thumbs beneath the soft, stretchy hem of his panties and slid them down over the swell of his hips to flutter to the floor like his discarded uniform. 

Dib's gaze immediately snapped to see the shape of what he'd briefly felt, and his fingers twitched against the bedsheet at the peek of what looked like three plump little petals between Zim's tightly pressed thighs. His eyes trailed up the rest of Zim's petite body, the Irken's ivy skin painted in hues of silver in Slaneek's rings' velvet light. Along the slope of his wide hips and the expanse of his thin waist and narrow ribs, up his sloping shoulders and elegant neck to finally meet those large raspberry red eyes. 

"You're beautiful," Dib breathed, and something flickered in the depths of Zim's eyes as his breath hitched. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." Dib knew it sounded cheesy, and he'd probably want to smother himself with a pillow from embarrassment once he was sober tomorrow, but for now, it slipped as easily from his lips as breathing. He leaned back on one arm and spread his legs, his other hand gripping his cock and stroked himself as he drank in the sight of Zim's bare skin. 

Zim's eyes followed the movement of Dib's hand as the human panted softly in the dim light, and it took a moment for Dib to realize the petite Irken was breathing heavily too. Zim swallowed thickly and rested his small hands on his waist, his soft lips parting sweetly as his hands tentatively trailed over the swell of his hips to hesitate, framing the wet little petals pinched between his thighs. Dib gritted his teeth and stroked faster as Zim caught his bottom lip between his teeth and tilted his head back as he slipped a hand between his legs. The other hand flew up to his mouth, and he bit down on a knuckle as he slowly, experimentally, rubbed his petals. The Irken's eyelids fluttered, but remained open and fixed on Dib's body as the soft clicking returned, trilling from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Holy fuck, Dib could cum from this alone. 

But Dib had always been too curious for his own good, and the alcohol burning in his veins certainly didn't help, so he reluctantly let go of himself to gesture for Zim to come closer. It took a moment before Zim complied and climbed back onto Dib's lap.

They were both already breathing hard as Zim spread his legs around Dib's hips. Dib bit back the urge to groan as he lightly traced his fingers along the hem of Zim's stockings, now the only barrier between them (well, beyond Zim's gloves, and Dib's lone sock that the human was too far gone to give one single fuck about). 

"You can touch me if you want." Dib rasped as he leaned into Zim's warmth and traced his lips down the Irken's thin neck to plant a deep, sucking kiss against where his neck and shoulder met. The little Irken purred in his arms and wrapped his small hand around Dib's length, and Dib froze as the memory of Zim twisting his wrist popped into his mind. "Uh, but be _gentle!_ "

"It's soft?" Zim's antennas perked up as he cast a bewildered look down at the human's body. "Eh, the skin, I mean-" Zim's gaze flicked up to meet Dib's for a second before dropping to watch his hand experimentally drag down the thick length and back up to squeeze beneath the head as his voice lowered. "And it's so _warm…_ " 

Dib lightly bumped his forehead against Zim's temple with a low groan as his fingers clenched against the Irken's thighs. It was a far cry from the best handjob, but just the fact it was a legitimate _alien_ doing it, and that Dib was undoubtedly the first human he'd ever touched, was enough to tip him closer to that sweet edge. Dib's eyes cracked open to stare down at the tip of the little pink petal poking out from the top of the slit hidden between Zim's thighs. 

"Can I…?" Dib's voice trailed off as his hands smoothed up Zim's thighs to linger along the sweet skin where Zim's legs joined his hips. Zim shivered slightly and tilted his head to press their mouths together. Excitement spiked beneath Dib's ribs when a small hand grabbed his wrist and led his hand between the petite Irken's legs. 

Dib moaned against Zim's mouth, and the Irken's tongue slipped past his lips as Dib ran his fingers through the soft, soaking wet folds. Zim had _five_ plump little petals, not three, all surprisingly firm and approximately the same size, framing three softer folds unfurling on either side of- 

Dib's eyebrows furrowed with another low moan, and Zim jerked in his arms as the human's middle fingertip sank to the first knuckle into the soft slit hidden at the center of the folds. 

"Did that hurt?" Dib pulled back to carefully survey Zim's face as his hand stilled between his legs. 

"If you dare stop now, I'm going to gnaw your eye out." Zim huffed a breathless growl as he leaned in to catch Dib's lips again. Dib figured consent didn't get much more enthusiastic than that and squeezed Zim's hip in his grip. He sank his finger as deep into the petite Irken's burning body as he could. God, Zim was _dripping_ around his hand as Dib thrust his finger into his tight, throbbing, channel, and Zim groaned against his mouth and stroked Dib's length harder in response. 

Dib was having a _fantastic_ time, right up until something inside of Zim grabbed at his finger. 

Dib tore away from Zim's mouth and snatched his hand back with an undignified yelp. His gaze snapped down to the… squirming pink tentacle that had followed his hand out?? It writhed between their bodies as though it had a mind of its own, and its liquid slick glistened in the silver light as Dib's eyes flicked up to discover Zim was gaping down at the digit with the same shocked horror as he was. 

"Is that, uh, normal?" 

" _Yes,_ it's normal. Everything's nor-" Zim's wavering voice was an octave higher than usual. Dib was on the cusp of calling him out for it when the squirming digit arched down, wrapped around Dib's cock, and retracted back into Zim's body with enough force Dib had a moment of genuine fear he was going to get his dick ripped off before being plunged to the hilt in Zim's tight little body. 

Both men yelped and stilled. Dib swallowed as he gazed down at the Irken in his lap. Zim was wide-eyed and trembling, both quivering antennae standing bolt-straight and teeth clenched tightly. 

"Zim, _breathe,_ " Dib squeaked as he carefully laid his hands on the Irken's waist and rubbed them up and down in a manner he hoped was soothing. "Zim, you have to breathe-" Zim finally exhaled in a dramatic gasp, his narrow ribs heaving as he sucked in another quick lungful of air. "Was that supposed to happen? Are you-?" Dib's voice hitched as his gaze fell from Zim's face to where they were joined at the hip. Zim's tentacle was still wrapped around his cock, even buried inside of the petite Irken it continued to writhe and squeeze him like it was trying to drag him impossibly deeper. It felt, frankly, _incredible._ Like, holy shit, how was Dib supposed to go back to regular human sex after this? At the same time, poor Zim looked like he was enjoying it significantly less than Dib, and he wanted to make sure the little Irken wasn't hurt before they continued. Dib gingerly gripped Zim's hips and tried to lift the Irken off his lap, only for the tentacle to tighten and tug Dib back in as Zim shuddered and hiccuped a sharp chirp in his arms. 

"Ah! Are- are you doing that-?!" Dib squawked as Zim tentatively ground his hips down into Dibs.

"I- just. Uh, just give me a second," Zim murmured faintly and finally blinked up at Dib as though he'd never seen the human before. Dib bit back a groan and leaned in to kiss the Irken in his lap before pulling back to pant softly against Zim's lips. Zim's body felt so, so _good,_ as the tentacle curled around his length while the Irken's walls pulsed around him. Dib could probably get off like this without even moving, but he fought against the urge to lose himself in the sensation. Zim's voice sounded dreamy as he softly whispered. "You really like this, don't you?" 

"Do you?" Dib whispered back, his eyes cracked open to drink in Zim's flushed face and half-lidded gaze. The Irken licked his plush lips and rolled his hips with a soft sigh that trailed off into a series of clicks deep beneath his ribs.

"I think I do." Zim's small hands fisted in the short hair on the back of Dib's head as the little Irken leaned into his human's lips with a low purr. Dib groaned as Zim licked that long, strange tongue along the seal of his lips and into his mouth, and dug his fingers into the soft skin of Zim's wide hips to guide the little Irken into riding him properly. 

Dib was about 35% sure he was going to suffocate with Zim's ridiculously long, dexterous tongue approximately halfway down his throat and both hands keeping Dib's head locked in place like a vice while the Irken roughly rocked in his lap. However, Dib was also about 83% sure he was perfectly okay with that fate. Just tell his family he died doing what he loved. 

Zim broke away with a high moan to arch his back in the silver light, saliva glistening on his kiss swollen lips and flushed from his antennas to his shoulders. He was clicking almost constantly now, his narrow ribs vibrating against Dib's, and Dib found himself humming low in return as his hands smoothed across that soft, alien skin. Their position didn't allow him to get as deep as he craved, and with a final squeeze of the smaller Irken's pert little ass, Dib shifted his hands to hold Zim's waist and leaned back to lie down fully on the mattress. 

Zim blinked down at the human stretched out beneath him, a look of uncertainty flickered across his flushed face before the expression melted to something more devious. The little Irken shifted to brace a hand on Dib's thigh and slowly rolled his shapely hips like the suggestive display of the window dancers that lined the streets far below, lifting up and slowly sliding down the length of Dib's cock with a high, sweet moan. 

Oh yeah. Dib was gonna die here. 

Pressure built as Zim rode him until each slow, measured, deep thrust started to feel like the sweetest torture. Dib's hands fisted in the sheets, stray hairs stuck to the sweat beading on his skin, his teeth gritted as he writhed beneath the sadistic little Irken as Zim panted and mewled with each shaky roll of his hips until finally, the human couldn't take it anymore. Dib couldn't ride this edge any longer- he needed _escalation._ He grabbed Zim by his wide hips and lifted him enough for Dib to get a solid footing and _pounded_ up into that sweet, tight heat. 

Zim's eyes popped wide, and his quivering antennas bolted upright with a loud, bright chirp. His hands flew to cover his mouth but could do nothing to stifle the clicks rattling in his chest as his eyes rolled back and he arched in Dib's grip, bouncing with the force of each thrust. 

Dib was so, so _close,_ his toes curled against the floor as he threw his head back to harshly pant, every fibre of his being focused on climax when Zim stiffened in his arms. 

“Dib-stop- _stop-_ I-!!” Zim's breathless voice was high with panic as he ripped his little hands away from muffling his sweet cries, the edge of fear cutting through Dib's haze of arousal like a knife. Dib's eyes snapped open as Zim's hands locked on his human's wrists, and Dib tried to pull them apart, only for Zim's tentacle to tighten mercilessly around his length and viciously pull him in as deep as it could.

"I-I _can't,_ you have to loosen up!" Dib's panicked tone wavered as Zim spasmed hard above him. The Irken dug his sharp little talons into Dib's wrists, arched his back, and _screamed_ as hot fluid burst around the human's cock, his inner walls pulsating around him as though trying to milk him dry. "Oh _fuck-!!_ " Dib managed to squeak with a full-body jerk as his orgasm was punched out of him. 

Zim bolted the second they were able to separate, leaving Dib to blink stupidly in the wake of the sharp slam of his bathroom door. The human's hands awkwardly hovered where they had been holding a warm little waist mere moments ago. It took another sluggish second to realize he was bleeding. Dib numbly tilted his hands to stare at the red welling up from the puncture wounds in his skin before flopping them down at his sides on the bed. He was sure the cleaning staff at this place had mopped up worse. 

"You okay, Zim?" He called out at the sound of the faucet turning on from the other side of the bathroom door. 

"Shut up, I hate you." Came the petulant reply, muffled through the door. Dib rolled his eyes, then lurched onto his side and groggily pushed himself up into a sitting position. He supposed that was that then. No wonder the little Irken demanded to get paid in advance, Dib didn't think he had the energy to lift his wallet at this point. He briefly considered grabbing his boxers but decided that seemed too much like work and opted to crawl up his bed and under the covers instead. He also considered finally kicking off his one stubborn sock but was already drifting off before he could act on the impulse. 

He was in the midst of internally debating if he should toss his glasses off or if he was already too close to being asleep to bother when the bathroom door swung open to bang against the opposite wall. Zim stomped out, brusquely shimmied back into his underwear, and, much to Dib's mild shock, threw back his blanket and crawled under the covers with the human. He curled up facing the human with his arms tightly crossed at Dib's side, not touching, but close enough to feel his warmth. Dib rolled onto his side to face the little Irken and reached out to tentatively trail his fingertips across Zim's bicep. He took it as a good sign when he didn't promptly get his face torn off and gently rested his hand on Zim's shoulder. It took a moment, but Zim eventually shifted closer to rest his forehead against Dib's chest. 

"Tell me about Irk." Dib hummed dreamily into the dim light as he curled into Zim's warmth. This was… this was nice. This was perfect, actually. He couldn't imagine a better cap off to his evening.

"No." Zim responded flatly. His antennas twitched against his scalp as he turned his face to press into the mattress. It was a beat before he continued softly. "Tell me about Earth." 

And, well, Dib was _supposed_ to be an ambassador for Earth, so he did. He started with the prepared speech he'd practiced countless times in front of his mirror in his cramped room on the Plookesian ship, promptly discovered he was too drunk to recite it from memory, and just kinda winged it from there. As Dib prattled on, Zim slowly uncurled and melted into Dib's arms, his cute little face eventually peeked out from beneath Dib's blanket to stare up at the human with wide, curious eyes, his plush little lips pressed into a thoughtful pout. Before Dib even realized what he was doing, he found himself leaning down to catch those sweet lips with his own. Then again, who could blame him for wanting to extend the fantasy just a little bit longer? Much to his delight, Zim didn't push him away. Instead, his antennas wrapped around Dib's cowlick as his small hands clenched against Dib's skin. 

It wasn't long before Zim was on his back, his shapely legs spread wide around Dib's hips, little black panties soaked through with slick and haphazardly shoved to the side as the human rocked into his tight, wet, body. Dib pinned Zim's wrists to the bed when Zim attempted to cover his mouth and muffle his sweet cries. This time Dib wanted to _hear_ him, wanted to hear every breathless moan and helpless chirp he wrung from the petite Irken, and Zim _loudly_ obliged. 

"Don't look at me like that," Zim panted, high and desperate, his face flushed and turned to the side as though embarrassed as Dib drank in the little Irken's beautiful body beneath him and Zim wrapped his legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "You horrible, awful thing, don't look at me like-" 

Dib awoke to a sharp rap at his door.

He lunged out of bed and stumbled in a mad dash to the bathroom, and he vomited up the drinks twisting in his guts from the previous night before his knees even hit the floor in front of his toilet. 

The stranger knocked again, and Dib managed to choke out a piteous _"Busy,"_ before lurching forward to puke again. 

His door swung open and heavy footsteps clicked against the floor to stop by the bathroom door as Dib sank lower on his knees and coughed into the toilet bowl. 

"Hoo boy, you look like you had a _night,_ buddy." Dib groaned at his commander's chipper tone and groggily ran a hand through his sweaty hair. 

He was distracted by the thin trails of dried blood on his arm. Alarm spiked beneath his ribs for a split second before he remembered what happened with Zim. Right. That _did_ happen. He turned his arm, and his face flinched into a grimace. Oh _geez,_ the little punctures looked deeper than he previously thought- he hoped they didn't need stitches or something (or leave obvious scars he'd have to come up with a believable lie to tell his dad and sister back on Earth to cover). His attention shifted from his battle wounds to his commander as the Plookesian sighed and shifted his weight from leaning against the doorframe. He grabbed a glass from beside the sink, filled it from the faucet, and handed it down to the hungover human curled around the toilet bowl. 

"You know, the front desk contacted me earlier this morning, you had a couple of noise complaints filed against you last night." Mooshy arched a brow through his mech suit's green-tinted glass as his mechanical arms sternly crossed above the dome containing his body. "Said it sounded like someone was screaming in here." Dib almost choked on his water. 

"Uh, I'm so sorry-" Mooshy waved off Dib's stumbling apology before he could even finish as his commander's face split into a teasing grin.

"You sly dog, I didn't think you had it in you." He leaned down and lightly punched Dib's shoulder. "We were all wondering where you sneaked off to last night. You could have told us you were looking for something a little more bipedal. It's cool, we know what's up." Mooshy winked down at the human as Dib's face cracked into a tremulous grin, and he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. Honestly, he hadn't thought he had it in him either, but apparently, all it took was some liquid courage (and 700 credits). 

"You finish that water and get dressed, k? Me and Spoopty are heading down to the Schmenny's across the street for some breakfast. You should join us." Mooshy chirped over his shoulder as he turned to head back out.

"But the restaurant here in the hotel is better?" Dib croaked as he wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, it is." Mooshy shrugged plainly. "You don't get _good_ food if you're just gonna throw it up later." And Dib supposed he couldn't really argue with that logic.

All trace of Zim was gone when Dib finally dragged himself out of his bathroom to do a quick sweep of the rest of his room. It made sense, Dib had drifted off pretty much immediately after their second round, and Zim probably wanted to take a shower and sleep in his own bed. Dib's gut twisted at the thought of the little Irken heading back out to work immediately after finishing with Dib, so he purposefully stamped down on the thought before it could get away from him. The encounter with the strange Irken had been good, _really_ good, but that didn't change that, in the end, it _was_ just a business transaction. You know, the exchange of money for goods and services and all that. 

Looking at what transpired between them through that lens made Dib feel strangely hollow. 

He roughly hauled on a fresh pair of boxers and snatched his jeans up off the floor, taking a moment to pat his back pocket to feel the familiar bulge of his wallet, and shrugged on a shirt before heading out. He figured if he was going to feel bad anyway, he might as well feel nauseous too. 

Mooshy and Spoopty waved to him from the small booth crammed near the back of the dining area, while the unknown Plookesian sharing their table turned to blink owlishly at him, and Dib already knew this was a bad idea. His stomach roiled its protest at the smell in the cramped diner alone. Still, he plopped down across from his commander and rested his face in his hand with a pained groan. Spoopty sympathetically patted his shoulder and helpfully slid a glass of water towards him. Dib grunted the closest thing to a 'thank you' he could manage and took a long sip of the ice-cold fluid. 

"Hey, Dib, this is Soppy, he _owns_ the G-Cube!" Mooshy gestured to the strange Plookesian at his side, and it took Dib a long moment to remember that was the name of the Plookesian brothel. "He made sure we all got the royal treatment last night, hoo boy, you shoulda stuck around, Dib. We were buddies waaaaay back when we were both still too small to leave the tidal pools back home- man, it feels like forever ago, huh, Soppy?" 

"Yeah, those were good times, you know? Simpler times." Soppy nodded sagely, and Dib felt something wither and die inside. He didn't have the emotional fortitude to pretend he cared to sit through 'good ole days' talk when he was stone sober, let alone like this. 

"Yeah, I suppose on the bright side, at least we don't have to worry about getting eaten by the bigger larva anymore." Mooshy clapped a hand on Soppy's shoulder, and the three Plookesians chuckled while Dib squinted around the table to try and discern if the trio of slugs were fucking with him. "This is Dib! He's a human bean-"

" _-Being._ " Dib interjected weakly and was thoroughly ignored as his commander happily prattled on.

"-from Earth! You know, the newest addition to the Intergalactic Trade Union?" Soppy politely nodded as Mooshy continued. "He's pretty great once you get to know him. I can't _believe_ he couldn't find a _single_ other human bean willing to let him fertilize their eggs, you know? On the entire planet! There are more than 7 _billion_ other beans, and our Dib here couldn't convince a _single one_ to take his seed. Can you believe that? I can't. It's _criminal._ " 

Dib's head was on the table when the waiter finally arrived to take their order. 

"A pint of sausages." Dib grunted from the countertop once everyone else had finished their orders without bothering even to open the menu, and Mooshy fell back to chatting with his old larva-hood friend. 

"That's why we swung by here, show the poor boy some Slaanekian hospitality, you know? Sure enough, you didn't have any trouble finding a willing partner last night, did you, Dib?" Dib grunted without lifting his head in response to his commander's question. "He's normally more chatty than this. Like, WAY more chatty." 

"You guys didn't leave him to fend for himself, did you?" There was a note of concern in Soppy's tone, to which Spoopty scoffed from Dib's side.

"He may not look like much, but Dib's a smart guy, he can handle himself." 

"We've been having some troubles around these parts lately. _Irken_ troubles." The word rippled through Dib's being like a droplet in still water, and his head jerked up from the table in time to catch Mooshy's face crinkle in disbelief. 

" _Irken_ troubles? What in Shirk's holy name is an _Irken_ doing on _Slaanek?_ " His commander snorted, and it was Dib's turn to wrinkle his brow in confusion. Why _wouldn't_ an Irken come to Slaanek?

"The same thing they do everywhere else- cause _headaches._ " Soppy sighed as he sagged in his dome. "Apparently it's been luring victims in with the promise of sex-" 

"That's ridiculous," Spoopty scoffed. " _Everyone_ knows Irken's don't fuck. I don't think they've even got the, you know, _equipment_ TO fuck." 

Both Dib's eyebrows shot up. Uh. _What?_

Before he had a chance to comment, their food arrived. The waiter plunked a pint glass crammed to the rim with greasy sausages in front of Dib's nose, and the human found himself silently regretting every life choice he'd ever made that led to this point. 

"Yeah, everyone knows that when they're _sober,_ Spoopty." Soppy rolled his eyes. "It's a different story when you've got a few drinks in you. And this little runt _knows_ it. He's been targeting tourists, getting them to take him back to their hotel rooms, then assaults them, ties 'em up, and steals everything he can carry." Soppy shook his head. "It's a damn crime, and the sooner he gets caught and handed back over to the Empire, the better." 

Dib felt the blood drain from his face as he straightened in his seat and numbly reached for his wallet. He flipped open the familiar leather packet where he stored his money, ID, interstellar passport, and credit cards to discover it was-

_Empty._

"Hey, Dib? You okay, dude? You're not looking so hot." 

Dib slowly turned to meet the bewildered stares of the trio of Plookesians, and promptly threw up. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's S U P E R L A T E, but this is for the Space and/or Late Nights prompt over on [zadrweekphase3](https://zadrweek3.tumblr.com), so make sure to pop by there to see some more amazing works! Seriously, I'm sending all my love & thanks over to the zadrweek folks for setting up another fantastic prompt week, bless you all ♥ 
> 
> This fic has lingered in my wip folder for more than a YEAR, so I decided to call it close enough to the prompt and finish it XD (or is it finished? Oho?) 
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read this, uh, bit of wild self indulgence, and I hope you have a lovely day (~˘▾˘)~


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